


Pink Beach Demons

by JoifulDreaming



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Banter, Flirting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:34:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24240646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoifulDreaming/pseuds/JoifulDreaming
Summary: Flirtatious husbands
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	Pink Beach Demons

They had spent the day at the beach- a rare holiday far from their normal life- and the sun was still visibly clinging to Crowley’s skin, he could see it. It was ridiculous because the sun could no more harm him than an actual snake, but still he seemed to absorb only so much before his skin went a delightful shade of pink. The warmth spread upward toward his eyes, which had relaxed and crinkled around the edges of his shades when he smirked.

Aziraphale reached up and cupped Crowley’s cheeks in his hands, feeling that warmth radiate into his fingertips.

“We should get you out in the sun more often, dear, you glow with it.” He stroked his thumbs along the rise of pinkened cheekbones.

“s’that so?” Crowley slid his sunglasses on top of his head so he could nuzzle Aziraphale’s right hand properly. “Would that mean I get to see you in this state of undress more often, too?” Long fingers wandered along bare arms making Aziraphale wiggle.

“Might do.”

“Scandalous, Angel.” Aziraphale had dropped his hands now and Crowley leaned forward to press their cheeks together and whisper in his ear, “ssso much skin on display for anyone to see.”

“Well,” Aziraphale sniffed, “not for just anyone.”

“Oh yeah?” He traced the angel’s softer cheek with his nose, breathing in his scent and feeling a sense of smugness when the man shivered gently in his arms, “who for then?”

“Just for one demon snake who turns positively pink in the sunshine.”

“Hmmph.” Crowley pulled back, aghast, “m’not pink.”

“If you say so, dear.”

“Not a pink snake, really.” He pouted, having dropped his seduction entirely.

“Of course not. Black as night.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Red as blood.”

“Okay, no need to mock me!”

“Eyes of gold.”

“Look-”

“Scales as sharp as sin- oh!” Aziraphale suddenly found himself pressed against the door to their rented bungalow, Crowley’s sun-warmed body holding him in place. He attempted to look some small measure of contrite, but it was ruined by the way he kept shooting glances at Crowley’s pouty, full bottom lip. He ran his tongue along his own lips, watching Crowley track it with his eyes.

“What… was I saying?”

“Mmhmm,” Crowley leaned in slowly, belying the way swiftness with which he’d pinned him, “you were being a right bastard.”

“You like it.” Aziraphale grazed his nose along Crowley’s cheek.

“Do not.” But the argument was soon lost amidst the sliding of lips and the gentle biting of teeth, wandering of hands and decidedly dark, not-pink, evil sighs.


End file.
